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Updated: June 5, 2025
A room to themselves, a warm fire, plenty of blankets and no suspicions of their true character. Smoothing the blankets over the bear skins, the two friends lay down and a whispered conversation commenced. "What were Cummings and Moriarity talking about, Chip?" said Sam, in a cautious tone. "Cummings wants to rob the old man, Swanson.
Matthews smiled and crossed his legs awkwardly. "Oh, it wa'n't nothin'," he said, forbearing to glance up. "I savvy Injuns, you know. I I was willin' to take the chances." Colonel Cummings looked down. After a moment, and without changing the position of his body, he turned his face slowly in Oliver's direction. The eyes of the two officers met, and flashed messages of doubt.
"You do that again, and I'll take it out of you right here!" declared the showman savagely. "I'll bet he's the fellow who stole my egg," declared Teddy, eyeing the pilot sternly. "How did that beast get up here?" demanded Mr. Sparling. "Who, Cummings?" asked Teddy innocently. "No, no! The donkey." "Oh! Maybe he came up through the smoke stack.
It was two weeks after her mother's funeral when Lucy Ann Cummings sat down and considered. The web of a lifelong service and devotion still clung about her, but she was bereft of the creature for whom it had been spun. Now she was quite alone, save for her two brothers and the cousins who lived in other townships, and they all had homes of their own.
"He telephoned in just before you came saying that he'd be right up to see you. I told him you hadn't returned. He laughed and hung up." "All right, Roberts. Send him in when he comes." I dismissed the secretary. Cummings was keeping tabs on me with a vengeance. What was on his chest? I didn't need to wait long to find out.
He only got a chance for one swipe at me, a low-toned, sarcastic, "Made a mistake to duck me, Boyne." I didn't think it worth while to answer that. Presently I saw him standing with Barbara. He was evidently effecting a switch of his theater engagement to the ball, for I heard Skeet's, "Mr. Cummings wants a ticket! He'll need two! Ten dollars, Mr. Cummings five apiece."
It's the beautiful Tappingham Marsh with his fiddle, and young Jeff Bareaud with his flute, and 'Gene Madrillon and little Frank Chenowith and thin Will Cummings to sing. Hark to the rascals!"
A word, though, of private exhortation could not be amiss. "You blundered, you see, this time," he said to Cummings, still good-naturedly. "Wouldn't it be well not to judge a fellow always by the cut of his coat?" "You're a brick!" burst forth the amazed Cummings. "I expected to be blown higher than a kite, and get my walking ticket besides. You're the best-natured fellow I ever saw."
But we must not pre-judge nor act hastily. "Commissioner Gibson has the support of the churches and the business men of Los Angeles. If he has deceived them and is only a tool for Cummings, he is the most infamous imposter that the city has ever known and it would be a big thing for us as well as a great deed in behalf of the city if we are able to expose him.
Cummings dropped the line and sat down, burying his hot face in his arms, for they all saw that Vanrevel thought "it was no use," but a question of a few minutes, and they would retreat across the gable and either jump or go down with the roof.
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